


If I Never See Your Face Again

by ceealaina



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, married assassins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 04:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3313913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceealaina/pseuds/ceealaina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint comes home from a mission and spends some time with his favourite assassin</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Never See Your Face Again

**Author's Note:**

> I was cleaning out some old files on my computer, and found this. I think I wrote it a couple of years ago now, but I cleaned it up a bit and voila, I think it's readable, at least. 
> 
> Also, the title is absolute from the Maroon 5 song. I was listening to it while editing and, well, I'm garbage at titles.

Clint sighed as he stood at the door to his apartment, bag slung over his shoulder. Exhausted, it took him three tries to work the lock before he finally made it inside. He dropped his bag on the floor inside, figuring he'd deal with it later, and headed for his bedroom, smiling when he found Natasha asleep in his bed.

He knew better than to think she was actually still asleep, but just in case he didn't bother to be quiet as he stripped down to his boxer briefs, stumbling to the bed in the process. When he reached the bed, Natasha was lying on her back, hair splayed out on the pillows and eyes watching him in the dark.

She didn't speak as he all but collapsed on the bed, stretching out on his stomach before turning his head to face her. She was watching him with that haunted expression, and he reached a hand out to brush over her cheek. "Nat," he breathed softly, eyes locked on hers.

She let her eyes slip shut at the touch of his fingers, her small hand coming to rest on his back, tracing over the muscles beneath his skin. "I thought I lost you," she whispered, eyes opening again. "You're not fucking allowed to leave me, Barton."

Clint could barely keep his eyes open, but he forced himself to stay awake a little longer, shifting closer to press his head against her shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere, Nat," he assured her, murmuring the words against her skin. He was asleep almost before he had finished speaking.

When Clint woke the next morning, he was on his back, Natasha folded in his arms. It was rare to see her so unguarded, even with him, and he let himself savour the moment, dipping his head to inhale the sweet scent of her skin. Natasha shifted, lifting her head to blink at him, and he gave her his best grin. "Morning sunshine."

Natasha didn’t return his grin, staring back at him without blinking. “I’m still angry with you,” she informed him seriously, and Clint just grinned wider; there was nothing like pissing off Natasha to remind him that he was alive.

“Come on, Tasha,” he protested. “It was just part of the op. It happens.” He brushed her hair back from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. “Besides, your favourite archer is still here. ‘m not going anywhere, dorogaja, I promise.”

The faintest hint of a smile crossed her lips at his Russian. “You’re pronouncing it wrong,” she told him flatly, and Clint chuckled before dipping his head to kiss her slowly.

Natasha hummed as she slid her hands up the length of his bare chest, and Clint couldn’t help grinning. He had a feeling that this was going to be one of those rare times where she would let him be in control, or at least as much control as she ever gave up. He loved those times, loved being able to take his time tasting and smelling her, loved being able to drag out those soft little whimpers from her lips as he teased her, bringing her to the edge over and over.

Natasha shifted higher up his body, settling properly on top of him, her legs on either side of his hips. She pulled away from his lips, her hands rubbing through his hair, and Clint made a happy, sighing sound, his eyes slipping shut.

“Mmm. You gonna give me a massage too, baby?” he asked, yelping when Natasha pinched his nipple. “Ow, Jesus. Come on Nat, you don’t have to hurt me!”

It was mostly for show; she hadn’t gripped him hard enough to actually hurt him. Natasha just gave him an unpressed look, her eyebrow arched. “What have I told you about calling me baby?”

“Ruin all my fun,” Clint grumbled, winding a hand through her hair and pulling her head down for another kiss. His other hand settled on her hip, and they both tightened as she deepened the kiss, tracing her tongue along Clint’s lips. He groaned, cock hardening as her perfect body moved against him. “Jesus Nat,” he mumbled, shifting beneath her to get more comfortable. “How are you so perfect?”

Natasha gave him a wry smile. “Training,” she replied, moving in to kiss him, but Clint frowned, his hand curling around her skull and stopping her.

“Don’t,” he told her, thumb tracing along her cheekbone. “Don’t do that.” He shifted up, placing kisses over her cheeks and nose. “You’re beautiful, you’re perfect. Jesus Nat, I-”

“Don’t,” she whispered, pressing one delicate finger against his lips. She gave him a soft smile, taking the sting away. “I know, Clint. I… Just don’t say it.”

Clint watched her a moment and then shifted up, kissing her hard again. His hand slid down over her back, sliding over silky smooth skin and keeping her pressed against him. He knew he had some aversion to hearing the word love, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t show her how he felt instead.

Clint let his hand trail down the length of her spine, the other staying curled around the back of her head as they continued kissing heavily. Natasha’s lips were warm and perfect against his, and Clint let his eyes fall closed, the last of the post op tension slipping from his body. Natasha shifted, grinding down against his cock, and Clint groaned weakly, his fingers clenching against the small of her back.

“Jesus Nat,” he breathed, head tipping back as she nipped her way down the length of throat. He swallowed hard, bucking up against her. “Fucking… Killing me, woman,” he choked out, huffing out a soft laugh as he did.

She pulled back a little, smiling at him in that deceptively sweet way. She licked her lips, tossing her hair over one shoulder, and Clint beamed back at her like a little kid, even as his eyes tracked the movement.

She pulled back further, sitting up as she continued straddling his hips. Clint groaned a little at the pressure on his hardening cock, and Natasha smirked as her hands slipped down to the hem of the shirt she was wearing, tugging it off over her head and tossing it aside, leaving her hair loose and tousled. Clint made a sound very close to a whimper as he was met with her breasts, full and perfect and practically glowing in the early morning light.

“God, I love your body,” he mumbled, his hands sliding up from her hips. Before he could touch, however, Natasha smacked his hands away. “Nat,” he whined, pouting up at her like a little kid. “Come on. I almost died!”

It might have been the wrong thing to say, but he said it so dramatically that Natasha couldn’t help laughing softly. “Not yet,” she told him sweetly, instead sliding her hands up over her torso. Cupping one breast in her hand, she squeezed softly, letting her eyes slip shut as she rubbed her thumb over a nipple. Clint’s mouth fell open, eyes widening in hunger.

“Nat!” he whined. “Come on, that’s not fair!”

His hands started to slide up her body anyway, but faster than he could react, Nat had grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head. “Thought I told you not yet, Barton,” she told him, her eyes narrowing as she grinned wickedly.

“So controlling,” he grumbled, half under his breath.

Natasha beamed, keeping his wrists pinned with one hand as she continued to toy with herself, Clint’s eyes trained on her body. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, breathing going ragged as he followed the movements of her hands. She could feel him hardening beneath her, cock twitching against the tight fabric of his boxer briefs, and the adoring way he watched her only served to turn her on more.

“Tasha,” he breathed, mouth a little slack, and when she pulled her hand away from his wrists, he kept them in place. “Jesus, could watch you all damn day.”

“Yeah?” she breathed, rocking a little on top of him. She bit her lip, breathing escaping in a soft exhale. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what? How fucking perfect you are? How you move like… I don’t know. Like you’re not even real. I watch you sometimes, when we’re on an op, and I swear, if I didn’t have the job I’d just fuck you in the middle of everything. The way you just take out the mark without even trying? Just… Fuck Nat. You’re amazing.”

Natasha’s eyes had fallen shut slightly as she listened to his voice, letting it wash over her. Her other hand had slipped lower, pressing hard against the skin just above her clit, and Clint saw his opportunity. Tensing his thighs slightly, he flipped their positions, relishing in the soft exhale of air that slipped from her mouth. Clint grinned as he landed between her thighs, spreading automatically to accommodate him as her knees bent on either side of his hips.

“Well, hello,” he said teasingly, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. Natasha rolled her eyes but he just kissed her harder, sliding a hand up to replace hers around her breast. She moaned softly and he grinned. “This is much better,” he informed her.

Hands still teasing her, Barton kissed his way down the length of her body, humming happily to himself because god, Tasha had spectacular breasts. She just rolled her eyes, reading his mind as usual, but her hand settled in his hair, combing through the soft strands, and he lifted his head to give her dopey smile before dropping his head again, teasing at her nipple with his tongue. Natasha moaned softly, her hips pushing up against him, and he grinned against her skin before continuing lower. His teeth dragged over her ribs and then down toward her belly button, teasing the soft, flat skin. He could feel Natasha’s eyes on him, watching his movements, and he smirked a little.

He stopped when he reached the waistline of the panties she was still wearing, black silk pulling just right over her skin. He lifted his head, grinning up at her as his fingers slipped just under the elastic, pulling it away from her skin without slipping them lower. “What do you want, Tasha?” he asked softly, grinning a little. He dipped his head, grinning when he found her wet through her panties. “Some of this?” he added, breathing in the musky scent of her and grinning as her hips twitched.

“You’re an asshole,” she informed him steadily, and Clint huffed a laugh against her hipbone.

“Always a charmer, Tasha,” he teased, tongue flicking out against the skin of her stomach. He shifted the waist on them a little lower and grinned at the soft sound that she let escape. “Why Natasha, was that a whimper I heard fall from your sweet lips?”

In response, Natasha lifted her legs slightly higher, tightening them around his neck and shoulders. “I swear to god, Barton…” she told him, although there was no real threat behind her words.

“Fine,” he dragged out. “Pushy,” he added affectionately before dipping his head to trace his tongue over the damp material. “Mmm, fuck,” he ground out, pressing his hips down against the mattress. “Taste so good.”

Natasha moaned softly, her hands curling into the sheets by his head, and Clint took his time teasing her through the material, sucking on it slightly to get the taste out of the fabric. Natasha was making soft not quite whines, and the sounds only turned him on more as he buried his face between her legs.

“Clint,” she breathed finally, her hand moving to curl through the short strands of his hair instead. “God Clint, stop teasing.”

He nodded then, because god he was turned on, and sat up enough to slip her panties down over her legs, tossing them behind his head somewhere. He didn’t especially care where they landed as he pressed back between her legs, burying his face against the short auburn curls and inhaling. Natasha made a muffled noise, her thighs tightening against his sides, and Clint slipped two fingers inside of her, teasing gently and groaning at how wet she was. He pulled away after only a moment, gripping her hips tightly instead, and he nearly lost it when Natasha grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand up to her mouth and sucking his fingers inside, licking and tasting them like it was his cock.

“Jesus fuck, Nat,” he muttered, and she shivered a little as the vibrations of his voice fluttered against her clit.

Natasha tensed as he finally closed his lips around her clit, pressing with just the right amount of force to make her gasp. Her nails dragged over the back of his head and Clint grinned, flicking his tongue out and groaning as she sucked harder around his fingers.

Clint couldn't help groaning against her skin, and he could feel Natasha moan around his fingers. Pulling off her clit, he shifted lower, pressing his tongue inside her. She tasted amazing and he rocked his hips against the mattress, desperately needing friction against his cock.

He curled his tongue into a point, a fucking expert at this by now, and it only took one swipe before he found her g-spot, pressing down against it relentlessly. Natasha whined sharply, grinding her hips hard against his face. Clint couldn't help grinning; he loved that she had no qualms at all about just taking her pleasure.

Clint pulled away to catch his breath, nearly overwhelmed by the scent of her, and Natasha all but growled at the loss, her legs tightening around his head. "Easy Nat," he purred, laughter clear in his voice. He shifted to nip over her flat stomach, his other hand tracing circles on her hip. "You gonna come for me baby?"

Natasha finally released his fingers with a wet pop. She glared at him, although Clint knew her well enough to spot the softness behind her eyes. "I swear to god Barton," she told him. "Get back down there."

"So bossy," he mumbled, and Natasha just arched a brow.

"Are you really going to try and pretend like that doesn't get you off?" she retorted, and Clint grinned as he shifted back between her legs. Natasha gave a sharp tug on his hair. "And don't call me baby."

Chuckling to himself, Clint went back to eating her out, this time pulling every trick he knew. He was making as much noise as Natasha, hopelessly turned on by the scent and taste and feel of her, and his hips were grinding down helplessly against the bed, dangerously close to coming in his shorts.

Natasha tugged suddenly on his hair, making him gasp. "Don't," she muttered, her voice rough and low, and if Clint listened closely enough there was the hint of an accent colouring her words. "I swear Barton, don't you dare come, or I'll never forgive you."

Clint groaned weakly as he flicked his tongue inside of her, struggling to stave off his orgasm. It only took a couple flicks and a sharp squeeze of her hips and Natasha was coming, legs tightening around his head. Clint clutched her hips hard enough to bruise as he continued eating her out through it, moaning as he lapped up the taste of her.

It was a minute before Natasha’s legs slipped from his shoulders with a weak sound, and Clint dug his fingers into the sheets to ground himself. He started to kiss his way back up her stomach, stopping when he reached her chin. He kissed her hard and Natasha licked the flavour of herself out of his mouth, making Clint grind down against her stomach.

“Nat,” he moaned when she pulled away, beyond desperate. He kissed over her face, just a little sloppy. “God, please.”

He ground against her, but before he could get any further, Natasha flipped them suddenly. Clint landed hard on his back, breath leaving his lungs in a soft whuff of air. He stared up at her with wide eyes as Natasha settled back on top of him. She had a dangerous look on her face and Clint realized that he had never been in control at all.

“Christ Tasha,” he breathed. “You’re going to kill me.”

Natasha dipped her head, scraping her teeth along his neck. "Gonna use you, Barton," she whispered, making him shudder. "Gonna fuck myself on your cock and just take what I need I from you." She sucked a dark mark into his skin and he moaned.

Clint huffed out a soft laugh as she pulled away. "I am actually okay with that," he told her, still grinning wide. He bucked his hips slightly up against her, his erection still trapped in the thin cotton. "Come on Nat, please?" he said softly, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Natasha eyed him a moment, considering, but there was a soft smile playing over her lips. She shifted then, reaching between them, and she shoved his briefs down so that the elastic snapped beneath his balls. Clint groaned as his erection sprang free, curving up toward his stomach, red and wet at the tip. He bit down, chewing on his lower lip as he squirmed a little, desperate for any kind of touch.

Natasha shifted on his waist, reaching above him as she dug around in his drawer for the condoms she knew would be there. Clint could feel her, wet and hot against his abdomen, and he couldn't keep himself from bucking his hips, cock rubbing up against her ass. Natasha pulled back, giving him an unimpressed look, and Barton gave her his sweetest smile.

"Well, we could..." he suggested, and Natasha just rolled her eyes, not even bothering to dignify him with a response.

She moved again, settling on his thighs instead, and just the sight of her opening the condom wrapper had Clint's toes curling. He held his breath as she gripped him tight and squeezed his eyes shut as she slipped the condom on, just that bit of pressure almost too much. Then Natasha was sitting up on her knees and sliding down on his length, and Clint dug his fingers into the sheets, groaning at how wet and tight she was.

Natasha paused when she was fully seated, taking a minute to adjust, but they knew each other and were used to each other, so it was only a second before she starting fucking herself on his cock, one hand braced on his chest as she moved with long, slow, perfect thrusts. Clint cursed as he watched her, hips moving in counterpoint to her movement but never more than what he knew she wanted. He shifted his legs, bending them up to change the angle, pressing his dick against her g-spot, and Natasha gasped, leaning back against the strong muscles. Her eyes were shut, head tipped back slightly, and her long curls spilled over her back, tickling his knees. He couldn't tear his eyes from the movement of her body, white skin like porcelain with a thin sheen of sweat over it, the muscles in her thighs clearly defined as she supported her weight, shifting up and down, perfect breasts bouncing just right with each thrust of her body. Clint had always been a talker, and he couldn't make himself shut up, waxing poetic about everything about her until Natasha was smiling.

Finally she started to move faster, clenching around him just right. Clint nearly choked, and he couldn't keep his hands off of her anymore. He wrapped one hand around her ribs, squeezing slightly, while the other moved to her breasts, thumbing a nipple and making her clench hard around him. She leaned forward, and his hand moved higher, cupping her neck as his thumb moved over her cheek.

"Shit Nat," he mumbled out, fucking up into her as his balls drew up tight. "'m close."

She smiled again. "Me too," she breathed, and Clint pulled her down against his chest, kissing her hard. Natasha moaned against his lips, rocking against him, and when he pulled away she was breathing hard. "Clint, please," she murmured against his lips and he grinned.

Clint flipped their positions easily, and Natasha moaned as she landed on her back. She shifted her legs, wrapping them around the middle of his back, and Clint grinned as he started to fuck her hard and fast, slamming against her g-spot with each thrust.

He knew the signs of Natasha's orgasm as well as his own, and he knew she was getting close. He fucked her even harder, grabbing her hands and entwining them with his above her head. Natasha moaned, heels digging into his back and she locked their hands around the headboard for leverage.

“Come on Tasha,” he chanted, hips rocking into her. “Come on Tasha, come for me sweetheart.”

She was keening softly, her nails scratching along his back hard enough to draw blood, and then she was clenching hard around him, back arching with a scream as her orgasm went through her. Clint groaned and pushed all the way inside of her as he came hard, kissing her desperately as he did.

Natasha collapsed on her back, going boneless beneath him, and Clint rested his head on her chest a moment before pulling out. He flopped on his back beside her, before forcing himself to get up, tying off the condom and cleaning himself up.

When he came back, Natasha had curled up on her side and was watching him with sleepy eyes, a soft smile on her face. Barton grinned and jumped on the bed, bouncing it a little as he landed on his back beside her. A rare giggle slipped from Natasha’s lips as she pressed closer to him, pressing her face into his neck as her hand ran over his abdomen.

“You’re not allowed to leave me Barton,” she reminded him once more, voice breathy as they both slipped back into sleep.


End file.
